


Capricious Brothers

by uumuu



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: I'm Bad At Titles, M/M, Sibling Incest, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 12:25:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4666437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uumuu/pseuds/uumuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amras and Amrod try their best (or their worst) but Maglor isn't one to please.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Capricious Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for the spanking square in my Season of Kink card, prompted by an anon on tumblr.

“...and so, you thought it was a good idea to swagger into the music room completely naked while I discussed the making of a new type of harp with the most competent lutist in the whole of Valinor,” Macalaurë said, still holding the cow horn pick the lutist had brought along with a new út. He had had been obliged to dismiss her; she had left still remarkably composed but making no mystery of the fact that she had taken offence.

Macalaurë's own irritation came through clearly in his voice and countenance, but Telufinwë's upthrust face – the left corner of his lips slightly pulled up in a smirk – didn't counter it with anything more than self-satisfaction. 

“You know we don't like intruders,” he said, arms crossed over his still naked chest, “particularly when their presence keeps our brother from us.”

“I don't seem to recall ever giving you the right to have any say on how I employ my time.”

“It was taking too long, and we wanted to be with you. What's the matter...you can always discuss your precious new harp at another time.”

Macalaurë had the urge to yell at his brother – which was rare enough for him – but took a deep breath and paused. Telufinwë's insolence was too deliberate, even taking into account his inborn brazenness. He stood from his armchair, and lifted the pick to Telufinwë's right cheek, lightly brushing it while he looked up into his brother's pale grey eyes. “You both shall have my undivided attention then,” he said, lowering his hand and turning the pick one last time between his hands before snapping it cleanly in half with a flick of his slender but strong fingers. “On my own terms.”

He turned to Pityafinwë, who had done nothing – but nothing to stop his twin either – and who nodded silently. Telufinwë gave an imperceptible, careless shrug of his shoulders, though his eyes followed the trajectory of the broken pieces as Macalaurë tossed them on the table next to the instrument it had accompanied before heading towards the door. 

Telufinwë's nonchalant air didn't falter even after Macalaurë had marched Pityafinwë and him both to his room and ordered him to get on all fours on the bed with his ass stuck up. He complied with unusual readiness instead. Macalaurë took note of it, but didn't immediately remark on it. He swept the curly mass of red hair which covered Telufinwë's back to one side, and laid both hands on his buttocks. He lightly slapped the right one, then the left. 

“I could almost believe you sought to anger me on purpose,” he said, letting his hands glide to the thighs which had not long before still been soft but were now almost as firm and as muscled as Tyelcormo's, testifying to the time the twins now spent in the wild.

Telufinwë said nothing, and Pityafinwë too remained silent, leaning against one of the posters of the bed.

Macalaurë started hitting him with a sequence of light but unremitting smacks – to the sides, the middle, from below and from above.

His hand soon began to smart, but he didn't tire. Years of constant practice with musical instruments had built endurance as well as talent, and he kept hitting his brother's asscheeks until at length a smattering of red began to show even on Telufinwë's dark golden skin.

To his credit, Telufinwë never cried out, or made any other sound, though by the time Macalaurë stopped his breathing had grown hoarse, and he had laid his forehead on his forearms in a headstrong attempt to keep still.

Macalaurë landed one last sharp blow to the middle of Telufinwë's ass, curling his fingers to graze the inflamed skin, but when he stuck his hand between his asscheeks, he found that Telufinwë was only half-hard. A little bemused, he turned towards Pityafinwë.

Pityafinwë's reaction was another matter entirely. He stared fixedly at Telufinwë's ass, not in dismay or sympathy for his predicament, but in evident excitement, a large bulge tenting the front of his pants. 

Macalaurë turned fully towards him. “Undress, and hand me your belt.” 

Pityafinwë jerked into motion like he had just come to from a daze. 

He undid the double knot tying his heavy leather belt on his right hip and handed it to Macalaurë, who folded it in half. “Let's see how this works.”

Pityafinwë fumbled to take his clothes off as quickly as possible, and immediately after he had stepped out of his pants turned and bent over without any need for Macalaurë to instruct him to do so. 

“So it was you, wasn't it?” Macalaurë said, delivering a stinging blow – a lash that hit both his asscheeks, leaving a distinct horizontal welt right across the middle of them. “It was your idea.”

Pityafinwë at first only nodded, not trusting his voice, then inhaled and gasped 'yes'.

“Why?”

“Because...” – the belt hit him at the juncture of ass and thighs and he nearly fell over – “it's better if you're really angry.”

“You could have just asked Moryo.”

“No -” – Macalaurë delivered two more sharp lashes to each asscheek, “...it's too easy to anger him.”

The belt cracked one last time, and there was silence. Pityafinwë suddenly felt the fabric of Macalaurë's short tunic caress his ass as his brother pressed behind him to nibble at his shoulder. The silken sensation on his pulsating skin made him moan. He moaned again, louder, when Macalaurë almost sank his teeth in his flesh, while wrapping the belt around his waist. His own braids got caught under the leather, and the added pull on his scalp made him squirm hopelessly against his brother.

“Cáno -” he groaned, “- do something.”

“Well, get on the bed then,” Macalaurë cooed, sliding the belt over Pityafinwë's belly.

Pityafinwë straightened with a shudder, and after casting a fervent glance at his older brother, stumbled towards the bed, his legs trembling with pain, and still more evident arousal. He hoisted himself on the mattress and got into position beside Telufinwë, who turned his head and captured his lips in a kiss.

Macalaurë contemplated their daintily tinted behinds, and grinned to himself as he thought of a more fulfilling course than simply spanking them as they demanded. He let the belt drop to the ground and crouched down to undo the laces of his own boots. He leisurely removed his clothing, taking his time to arrange tunic, leggings and undergarments over the back of an armchair.

“Now,” he said, spanking both at the same time with a vigorous slap to where their asses touched, “since I am left with plenty of time to while away, thanks to your efforts, you will have to take responsibility.”

He walked to the head of the bed and sat down on it.

Pityafinwë lifted expectant eyes to him. “...you're not hitting us more?”

Macalaurë shook his head, a hint of amusement replacing irritation on his face. “Not now. I might do it later...if I feel like it. Come here.”

Both twins hurried towards him. Pityafinwë was the first to throw himself in Macalaurë's arms, and kiss him. Telufinwë followed suit. Two pair of lips brushed and two tongues dotted his face with light wet caresses; Macalaurë had to push both away when he had had enough of it. 

Telufinwë, undeterred, caught the hand with which he did it and began sucking on his fingers.

Pityafinwë snuggled at Macalaurë's right side, folding his bigger body to fit against his older brother's, frowning slightly. “You hit Telvo far longer than me,” he groused, intently watching the slide of Telufinwë's mouth on Macalaurë's fingers. 

“I might have.” 

“You didn't even use your hand on me.”

“If you wanted someone to simply give in to your whims, you should have pestered Moryo or Nelyo. I'm certain they would have spoilt you both,” Macalaurë said and chortled at the pout on Pityafinwë's face, flicking the tip of his nose with the index finger of his free hand. “As I said, this will be on my terms.” He lay back against the pillows piled up at the head of the bed. “Well, I'm waiting.” 

Pityafinwë huffed and tied his braids in a knot behind his head so that they wouldn't get in the way. He straightened to kiss Macalaurë again before scooting back, wriggling his sore ass – but not nearly as sore as he would have wanted it to be. Then he brought his head down to Macalaurë's crotch, slowly licking his stiffening cock from tip to base with the flat of his tongue. He nipped at the tender skin there, while tugging on Macalaurë's thigh. Telufinwë helped him in getting Macalaurë to open his legs, and crouched between them. The twins' lips met briefly over their brother's cock, and they nodded to each other, determined to get what they wanted from him. 

Pityafinwë took Macalaurë in his mouth, swallowing as much of his cock as he could. 

Telufinwë's tongue slithered down over Macalaurë's sack to his opening, and lapped at the rim.

Macalaurë's eyes drifted shut. He started humming softly, treating the pleasure he felt as he would have a sequence of notes, to draw it out and relish every sensation to the fullest. His right hand slid to the small of Pityafinwë's back, and at times hovered above his buttocks, patted them gently or brushed his knuckles on them, giving his brother but the tiniest suggestion of what he wanted. 

The afternoon would be a productive one, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> By út I mean [the oud](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UUy3y0fqxN0), which is played with [a long pick/plectrum](https://reverb-res.cloudinary.com/image/upload/a_exif,c_limit,f_auto,fl_progressive,h_620,q_75,w_620/v1434538787/dlkf0cuthr7y6tokldef.jpg).


End file.
